


Bang, Bang, Blame

by dirtybinary



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Arguing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1864968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtybinary/pseuds/dirtybinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve joins Bucky at war in 1944, they've both changed a good deal. It takes them a while to come to terms with that. Fighting and make-up cuddles ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bang, Bang, Blame

"That," Bucky said, "is so fucking bizarre."

Steve raised his arms and turned in a circle like a talentless ballet dancer, smirking theatrically at Bucky, who was curled up on his bunk between piles of blue tights and hastily borrowed military jackets. When Bucky didn't crack a smile, he sighed and reached for his shirt, tugging it back on. "You're just saying that 'cause you have to look up at me now." 

Bucky gave a toneless, monosyllablic laugh. It was their first morning back at camp after the long march over the Austrian border, and by the looks of it, he hadn't slept at all since then. His eyes were ringed with reddish-grey bruises, and his dress uniform was already rumpled, as if he'd spent all night pacing around in it. "Won't be giving you any more piggy-back rides, that's for sure."

"That was _once_ ," said Steve, smiling in spite of himself. "I could carry you now."

"With one hand," Bucky agreed. He squinted up at Steve, his uncombed hair curling over his forehead, his eyes roving down the length of Steve's torso and over the rippling muscles in his arms. There was something lost in his expression, something vulnerable and bewildered, like a little boy who'd misplaced his brother at the store. "You never mentioned it in your letters. And I never thought to ask why the postmarks were all coming from different cities. Figured it was just a mix-up. Self-delusion, really." He rubbed at his eyes. "Why'd you do it?" 

Steve shrugged. "Wasn't too proud of being a dancing monkey."

"Not that," said Bucky. There was a bite of impatience in his voice that was new to Steve. Bucky waved a hand at him, an all-encompassing gesture that took in his face and height and everything else that was different about him. " _This_."

"I told you." Steve had been stuck in the briefing room till late, answering the Colonel's endless stream of questions, and he was beginning to feel worn thin. "I had to do the right thing. You really wanted me to stay home and fret uselessly while you and just about everyone else we knew were risking your lives out here?"

"Yes, Steve," Bucky snapped. "Right on the money. That's exactly what I wanted you to do."

Steve could feel his temper slipping away from him. "That's kind of selfish, Buck." 

"I think I've earned the right." Bucky pushed himself off the bed and started to pace. Steve stepped instinctively towards him, remembered how big he was now, and drew back against the wall. "All those times I stepped up to the plate for you, scared away your bullies, got beat up because you picked a fight neither of us could finish—"

This hit Steve where it hurt the most, and he knew full well that had been Bucky's intention. Something seemed to snap deep down inside him, the way it did when some bully laughed at him or said something disrespectful to a lady, and as always he was moving before he knew it. He grabbed Bucky by the shoulders, swung him round and shoved him into the wall, and leaned in so their faces were less than an inch apart. "Yeah, 'cause you're the only one allowed to make sacrifices here," he said through gritted teeth. "That's real big of you."

Bucky stared up at him, eyes wide with astonishment. This close, Steve could smell the bitter tang of whiskey on his breath. He remembered with a sort of dumb horror how strong he was now, and that Bucky had been starved and tortured just days ago, and still bore the marks of it on his face. He started to apologise. But inexplicably, Bucky grinned, and a spasm of mirth rocked his body into Steve's. "I don't know why that's hot, but it is."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Oh, for God's sake."

Bucky shrugged, sobering up again. "All I'm saying is, it would have made things easier for me. Being out here, far away from everything, and knowing you were safe, that there was someone to come home to. I would've liked that."

It was impossible to stay angry at Bucky under normal circumstances, let alone when he was like this. Steve reached for his arm. "Bucky, please."

For a moment Bucky just stared mutely at Steve's hand on his wrist. Then he huffed out a breath and shook his head as if to say _screw it_ , or maybe just to clear it of some grasping tendril of fog that only he could feel. "Sorry, Stevie. They fucked me up good in there. Don't know why I said those things."

"It's all right."

"It's not, really." Bucky pulled away from him and sat back down on the bunk, knocking Steve's costume to the floor to make room. "But, whatever, don't give me that bull about just wanting to do the right thing. If that was all, you wouldn't have a problem staying put, working your job at the factory, helping to look after my sisters." Steve grimaced, feeling a pang of guilt. "As far as _right things_ go, those were pretty safe bets, y'know? But this, this is about you."

"Yeah, well." Steve pushed the rest of the clothes away so he could sit down next to Bucky. "Can't say I didn't think about what there was in it for me. A healthy body. Being able to stand up for myself, pull my own weight. Hell, walk a dame home without wheezing all over her shoes."

"Is that why, then?" Bucky looked genuinely pained. "You thought there was something wrong with you? That you needed fixing?" 

Steve fiddled with the ends of his bootlaces. He didn't want to look up. "Didn't I?"

"Oh, _Christ_ —" 

"It wasn't just that," Steve said hastily, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Even now, he still wasn't used to how it didn't flop down over his forehead any more—the serum seemed to have changed the shape of his skull, and his handlers at the USO kept sending him on lengthy and expensive trips to the barber that he didn't really need. "It wasn't just me, all right, it was about you too. I couldn't just let you go off to war by yourself without at least trying to follow. It was a shot in the dark, but I had to take it."

"Oh?" Bucky gave another toneless laugh, arms hugging his knees tight. "You wanted to join me out here in the mud with the crap food and the constant orders and the Nazis trying to shoot our guts out every day? How's that working out for you so far?"

"Pretty well, I'd say," said Steve, "seeing as I've only been here about a week and I've already managed to save my best guy from fire and death." Bucky looked at him sideways, eyes narrowed, and Steve gave him a tentative peace-offering smile. "Honestly, Buck? I thought, if you ever made it back home, you deserved better than some scrawny, sickly kid to try and make a life with. I thought—I thought you deserved a hero."

"So you went and became one. Steve, so help me—" Bucky let out a noisy exhale, throwing his hands up. "You know all those times I wanted to pummel the living shit out of you because you were such a _dickhead_ , but didn't because it would probably kill you? I'm warning you, I don't have to worry about that anymore." 

A slow smile spread across Steve's face, and warm relief seemed to burn in the hollow places in his chest, around his heart and lungs. It was going to be all right, then. The thought of Bucky had been the only thing keeping him going in Dr. Erskine's lab when they were giving him the serum and the Vita-Rays seemed to be searing him from the inside out and even Peggy had sounded alarmed; but Bucky was safe now, and they were together like they should have been from the start, and it had all been worth it. "Ohhh, so the Day of Reckoning has arrived?" Steve said. "You're welcome to pummel me all you want, then. I won't break now."

"Nah," said Bucky, sighing. "Not today. But it's coming to you, I promise." He scooted round on the bunk, so they were facing each other. His eyes seemed less empty now, as if some life had returned to them. "Steve?"

"Mm?" 

"Those arms only good for fighting, or other things as well?"

Steve laughed, and held out said arms. "C'mere, you jerk."

Bucky inched forward hesitantly, head tilted to one side like a curious bird as he studied the unfamiliar lines of Steve's new body. At last he draped himself on Steve's chest, frowning in concentration, and arranged his head on his shoulder. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, careful not to squeeze too tight. It took a few minutes to work out a position that didn't feel awkward, but several adjustments later, they discovered that Bucky's head fit just right into the curve where Steve's throat met his collarbone. Bucky sighed in contentment, and Steve tangled his fingers in the short brown hair and stroked gently along the nape of Bucky's neck with his free hand. "Steve."

"What."

"You," Bucky murmured, "were the perfectest person in the world even when you were skinny. I would've been utterly happy coming home to you. And you're still perfect now, just a different sort of perfect, and I'm glad you're here, all right? Please tell me you know that."

"Yeah," said Steve. His heart felt so full he thought he might burst. "'Course I do. I'm the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan."

"No, you're a punk and a dickhead," Bucky said. He reached up to swat Steve in the back, but his hand thumped against Steve's bicep instead, and he laughed. It was a strong, wholesome, fearless laugh, the one Steve remembered from back home, and in that moment Steve felt almost certain they were going to win the war next week and be home before he turned twenty-six. "God, Steve," Bucky said, poking him in the arm to make the muscles move. "This is just—so—fucking—bizarre."

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://dirtybinary.tumblr.com) or check out my [gay arch-nemeses novel](http://valeaida.tumblr.com/post/149576789996/an-elegy-info-post)


End file.
